


Phasmophobia

by SirChester



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Allister doing his best, Bea is proud, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, I love Galar gym leaders, Panic Attacks, fear of ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirChester/pseuds/SirChester
Summary: Allister is used to being the most anxious battler on the pitch. But when he gets a young challenger with a crippling fear of ghosts, he's forced to step into a role usually reserved for his big sister/fellow gym leader/emotional support human.Entry in a possible Gym Leaders + Mishaps series. Because things are bound to go wrong on live TV.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 139





	Phasmophobia

**Author's Note:**

> I adore Allister's character and hope we get to see even more of him in potential Sw/Sh sequels.  
> (When making or using OC's, I try to ground them in the Pokemon universe somehow so they're more familiar. In this case, the character featured here is based off of the Youth Athlete NPC class in Alola.)

Televised gym matches were a double-edged sword. On the one hand, hype and fame spread much quicker. Trainers and their Pokemon fed off of the support and energy of the crowd.  
  
On the other hand, live TV brought its own pressures, and incidents were broadcasted to all. Rabid fans running onto the field, trainers finding creative ways to injure themselves, and Pokemon moves landing in the crowd were just some of the many immortalized moments that ended up on the Galar telly.   
  
The most recent had struck Turffield’s Gym: a trainer with seasonal asthma had to stop the battle due to a pollen-induced attack. Milo felt absolutely awful about it, and told reporters he planned to have allergy medicine on-hand should it ever happen again. He apparently even took the trainer out to a meal when they were better, more from the kindness of his heart than any sort of publicity stunt.   
  
Allister was fortunate that no such interruptions had happened in his Ghost gym before. Well, until that day.   


“A trainer broke a leg during my gym mission once. Literally,” Bea had shared only a few weeks beforehand. Having tied in a battle for the Stow-on-Side stadium position, they co-owned the gym together, her running it with Fighting types every other gym challenge season. No one minded, as it created some variety in the annual challenge.   
  
The two got quite close as a result, Bea taking the role of his surrogate big sister of sorts. She was stoic, and rather firm, a result of being raised by strict parents. But she cared a lot about his wellbeing, always fussing over him and softening up to comfort him if he needed it.   
  
“How they managed that in a spinning cup is beyond me. And don’t get me started on the motion sick trainers. It's like a right of passage to have stuff go wrong in your stadium at least once."   
  
Allister had stiffened beside her, and she patted his back lightly. "Course, not always. With increased safety measures and trainer health checks, the process has smoothed out over the years."   
  
Allister hoped that was the case. The youngest leader had no idea how he would handle such a problem, and the follow-up press.   


The day it all went to pot, he stood in his locker room, the crowd roaring outside. He put his hand over his chest and sighed lightly. His heart always raced moments before a battle, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t work himself up too much.   
  
Luckily, he’d never panicked during a live televised match before. But in his early days as a gym leader, he sometimes ran off after matches to be ill, or to stave off an anxiety attack by doing breathing exercises with Bea in the locker room.   


Bea had asked him multiple times if he even _wanted_ to be a gym leader, when it caused him so much anxiety to be amidst the crowds. He tried his best to explain that he was always anxious around people, on-stage or at the supermarket, and he only really felt calm in ruins or cemeteries. That had been the case ever since he was four years old…after the accident he didn’t like to talk about.   
  
The only exception was when he battled a really strong, clever trainer. Then, he forgot he was being watched entirely. He loved every moment, feeling almost as alive as he was before the accident. He experienced it especially when battling the new Champion, Gloria. The Galar savior was mad talented, and always a privilege to face against.   


Allister hadn’t felt it since his last rematch with her, and he had no idea if he would feel it again in this match. But he was more focused on keeping his anxieties in check. He wasn’t at his sharpest today. His mind could really use a Defog, and he had an upset stomach which he blamed both on nerves and sipping too much of his Polteageist’s tea that morning. His hands were also sweatier than usual, which meant another self-conscious handshake at the end of the match. But, the show must go on.

So, he took one last breath, put on his mask, and headed out to the field.

“On the right, we have our gym leader, the young prince of all things supernatural, Allister!”

The crowd cheered in delight as he swayed into his position. Allister still didn’t know how to feel about people cheering for him. Autographs were stressful enough.   
  
“And on the left, our challenger! One of the youngest to participate in the Gym Challenge, and an expat from the sunny Alola region, let’s bring that tropical heat to Galar in warmly welcoming Challenger Koa to the pitch!”   


It was rare for challengers to be younger than Allister. And this boy was certainly foreign, with curly brown hair and sun freckles no Galar weather could produce.   


But his disposition was not sunny at all. He was deathly pale despite his tan, and had his gaze planted firmly to the stadium ground. He walked like each step caused him physical pain.   


Allister frowned a bit. This kid certainly did not look well.   


But there was nothing to be done. The match was on.   
  
They stopped a few feet away from each other.   
  
“…M’Allister.”

Koa risked a glance upwards—his eyes widened, and he quickly stared back down, clutching at the hem of his shorts. He stayed quiet.   
  
“H-here…I go…”   


Out first, as always, was his Yamask. Bea suggested he change up the lead sometime, but he was a creature of habit when it came to gym battles.   


Koa didn’t release any Pokemon for a moment, closing his eyes tight. The audience quieted and muttered a little.   


Then, he opened them and threw his first pokeball. A little pink Stufful emerged.   


Allister took a quick breath. Right, so immediately immune to his beloved Ghost type moves. Frustrating, but he could work with that.   
  
Koa didn’t even watch the match, looking at the crowd, the ground, the sky, anywhere but the field. Allister found it impressive he could even focus…then again, if his grand plan was to spam Brutal Swing, he didn’t exactly have to look, either.   


Cursola next. Koa was able to look at it a bit more than Yamask, but he still paled further and swallowed roughly if he stared too long.  
  
Allister had it put a Curse on the Stufful. The little cry it gave out made Koa visibly flinch.   
  
‘You would think I cursed _him_ ,’ Allister thought. The little bear still took out his Cursola, but Mimikyu was up next, and that would make quick work of it should he choose to push through the curse.

Stufful went back to its trainer, and Allister heard him give a quiet and breathy apology to it.   
  
When Koa looked back to the field, his eyes widened in horror at the sight of Mimikyu. His gaze darted to the base of its disguise cloak, and then his eyes squeezed shut.   


The crowd had noticed the challengers unusual behavior by now and kept up the murmuring. Allister hoped the battle would end soon, both for his and Koa’s sake.   
  
“Go, Cubone.” Koa’s voice was barely a whisper and brief enough that you couldn’t make out the distinct Alolan accent as he tossed forward a Friend Ball.  
  
Allister had never seen one before. It was a brown dinosaur, with a skull worn over its face. He touched his own mask unconsciously. It didn’t look like a Ghost type, but he couldn’t be sure until he attacked it.   
  
Cubone was strong and very fast, and certainly not a ghost. It was surprisingly high leveled to be in its first level form. It managed to get his Mimikyu in a tight spot…even with Koa keeping his eyes closed.  
  
“Watch the field, kid!” someone in the audience yelled, and Koa’s eyes snapped open in response. The audience member’s pressure kept him from closing them again, but he fidgeted and started to tremble. Beads of sweat were visible on his brow…he made Allister’s hands look Dusty Bowl dry by comparison.   


Cubone finished off Mimikyu. And then there was one.   


“My very last Pokemon…How lonely…How frightening…”   
  
Allister threw out his last pokeball.   
  
Koa gasped. Not in a positive way.   
  
He actually took steps backwards, eyes fixed on the Gengar, starting to breath heavier. The audience’s murmurs rose. Cubone looked back and called to him, concerned for its trainer.   
  
Allister felt his own anxiety start to build in his chest. This battle needed to end quick.   
  
Luckily, Gengar could do that, just like it felled many other trainers. Allister called Gengar back.   
  
Koa looked relieved at the Pokemon’s absence…but it was brief.  
  
“Gengar…Gigantamax…Swallow everything in darkness…”  
  
Red clouds swirled above.   
  
Gengar grew into its Gigantamax form, emerging from the ground with its massive paws and opening its never-ending jaw.

And Koa screamed at the top of his lungs.   
  
It was still almost unheard beneath the audience’s loud Gigantamax chanting. But the young challenger’s actions weren’t missed: he fell to his knees, panting wildly. Cubone raced to its trainer’s side, desperately nudging at his face as he started to hyperventilate.   


The audience went dead silent so only Koa’s desperate repetitive voice could be heard: “nonononoNONONONO!”   


Allister had to catch and push back his mask to prevent it from falling off.   


For once in his time on the field, absolutely no one was looking at him. All eyes were on the challenger and his panicking.   


Allister was free from all attention.

But seeing his young challenger’s state, he didn’t like the feeling at all. He felt very sick, far beyond his initial nerves and overindulgence of a Polteageist cuppa.   


“G-Gengar, back. C-come back!” He called it back into its pokeball as fast as he could.   
  
Staff members raced out to the field and tried to get Koa up, but he just pushed their hands away. The moment his glazed eyes seemed to focus again, he jumped up, looked around frantically, grabbed Cubone, and ran with the speed of a Boltund towards the stadium’s emergency exit.

The audience’s chatter filled the stadium once more. Of course, blasted reporters pushed their way forward onto the field.  
  
“It appears this young challenger has suffered some kind of breakdown on the pitch…”

“No news yet on what happened. Staff is currently trying to locate the challenger, who is no where to be found in the stadium.”   


“Could phobias be to blame? Or something more sinister? Could it be…a _curse_?”  
  
Allister rarely lost his temper. But he could become spiteful, as ghosts often did.   
  
And he needed the nosy reporters to shut their bloody gobs.   


He told his staff to kick them out with no mercy, and headed back towards his own locker before stray reporters could pounce on him.

Once alone, he realized just how ill and trembly and chock-full of anxiety he felt. Cold dread filled him up as the gravity of the situation hit. A crisis, in _his_ gym. Just like Bea talked about.   
  
But he kept himself from completely falling apart by compartmentalizing. Right now, he needed to get out of the public eye. And he needed to find the boy suffering even more than he was.

He thought about his own favorite hiding spots around Stow-on-Side. Most of them had ghosts, though.   


“Allister!” Bea’s voice broke through his depth of thought. She took his shoulders, fussing over him immediately. “What do you need? Breathing exercises, water, talking, time alone—?”   


“Koa.”

“What?”

“Need to find Koa.”   
  
Bea shook her head. “Alli, it’s okay. The authorities will take care of it. He’s not your responsibility, and I know how you are about talking with strangers.”

Normally, Bea was right. Allister did not like confrontation, and struggled to interact with strangers outside of the challenge. But something about the visceral terror the boy displayed, and Allister’s personal experience in how authorities handled—or mishandled—trauma with children, he felt a burning need to sort the situation he created; or at least, bring the boy back to Bea for anxiety aftercare.   


He took Bea’s hands off his shoulders carefully. “Keep the reporters under control, please. Be back soon.”   
  
Allister put all his pokeballs in his locker and left before she could stop him. Timid as he was, he still had a childlike stubborn streak.   
  


The ruins were quiet, most of the usual campers and trainers inside the stadium for the match.   
  
Allister went out to the field first, even knowing Koa wouldn’t be there. He had to ask his friends a few questions.  
  
The wild Yamask of the area told him just the info he needed: young child, Pokemon holding a bone, climbing down one latter, then going back up to a shady place in front of the giant Digletts.   
  
Allister was cautious in approaching the short tunnel of rock. His friends were correct: against the wall, in the shadows, Koa sat with Stufful clutched in his arms, and Cubone standing guard next to him. It seemed like he was trying—and failing—to keep his breathing even. At the sight of Allister, Cubone’s eyes darkened and it rushed forward with its bone club brandished.   
  
"W-wow, e-easy…!” Allister backed away with an unpleasant jolt of fear in his chest. Ghosts were much easier to be around than other Pokemon. He never did well in the Wild Area.   
  
“N-no pokeballs, s-see…?” Allister gestured to his sides. Cubone stopped when he realized the scary trainer wasn’t going to send anything out. Koa peered up a moment, then immediately buried his face back in Stufful.   
  
Allister scratched at his mask awkwardly. He found the boy, and immediately had nothing to say, just like Bea predicted.   
  
“Um…ah, c-crumbs. I…s-sorry…” He stopped his useless mumbling when he saw Koa’s breathing pick up. He didn’t know what to do, but he didn’t want to leave him all alone to spiral, either.    
  
“…You alright?” Allister asked. Dumb question, of course he wasn’t.   
  
Koa just curled into himself more.

“I…I know how you feel. Sort of. I get anxious, too…but around p-people, not ghosts.”  
  
Koa didn’t respond, but seemed to be listening.   
  
“Should…should I go…?”   


Surprisingly, Koa shook his head. Stufful gave a little whimper.   
  
Allister felt terribly for him, knowing the aftermath of a panic attack all too well. But not knowing how to fix it, he felt his natural anxious state bubble back up.   
  
Still, he refused to let it overtake him, not when someone needed him to be tough. He tried moving to the same wall as Koa, first…then standing close by him…then sitting down. Koa didn’t move, just struggled to regulate his breathing as he kept his face buried in Stufful’s plush fur.

He didn’t seem to be doing much better with time; when he lifted his face to take a choppy breath from his mouth, his eyes were glazed over and unfocused.   


In a strange way, Allister could better handle this state than if Koa was fully present and aware. It wasn’t quite like talking to ghosts, but just like he could match a ghost’s energy well, so too could he match the vibration of a kid in the throes of something mentally horrible. As sad as that was.   
  
With this new flicker of confidence, Allister reached out with a trembling hand towards Koa. After hovering it awkwardly a few moments, he gently rubbed his back. Bea did that whenever Allister was especially stressed, and it helped him feel safer, like he didn't have to worry about someone startling him from behind. So maybe it could help this poor kid.   
  
“M’sorry you’re having such an upsetting day…” he muttered. “Can go get help…I know someone real kind.” 

The kid shook his head, and surprised Allister by reaching up and gripping his gym uniform sleeve. “Stay, please,” he whispered.   
  
“Oh. Okay. If you want me to…” He resolved to take him to Bea when he was a bit calmer.  
  
They stayed like that, Koa holding his sleeve in an iron grip and Allister trying to use the rhythmic motion to keep himself from spiraling into panic, too. He was much younger than Bea and the other leaders, but he had to play the composed older person in this scenario, even if he felt quite rubbish at it. It was his fault his challenger got so afraid in the first place. Koa had obviously been uncomfortable, so why did he bother Gigantamaxing Gengar? Clearly he still had a lot to learn about gym-leading.   
  
Koa seemed to calm a little, but not enough to fully come back. Allister had an idea.   
  
“H-here. Koa. Try and breath with me? Slowly.” For both their sakes.   
  
After a nod, Allister stumbled through one of Bea’s breathing exercises with him. It seemed to work; after a couple rounds, Koa lifted his head from Stufful and was able to sigh without a hitch in his breath.   
  
“I’m sorry, Allister,” the boy mumbled.   
  
“Mm? You don’t have to apologize…”   
  
The boy shook his head.   
  
“It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have challenged you at all. I can’t face Ghost types anymore, I mean, I almost didn’t finish the mission.” Koa’s voice was strained from his harsh breathing—though Allister could tell the boy was talkative, when not in such a scared state. Alolan people had a reputation of being more open and sociable than Galarians. “I-I made a big scene and wasted your match. I should have just quit the challenge.”   


Of course, it was natural for normal people to be afraid of ghosts. Allister had a few easily spooked challengers in his gym before. But to this extent was extreme.   


“Um…why are you scared of them? N-not that it’s unusual. But…you seemed more upset during the match than most challengers, so…”  
  
Koa stared down at his hands. “Long story.”

Allister shrugged. “Got time. I-if you want to share.”

“Yeah…okay.” Koa took a breath. “I wasn’t always scared of ghosts. But my village back in Alola had this haunted megamart nearby. Miss Acerola warned me not to go near it. Then during a sleepover, my friends dared me to sneak in and get them free snacks…b-but…they locked the door, and laughed at me, and left, and I couldn’t get out all night…!” He curled up tighter as his breathing grew sharp again.   


Allister’s eyes darkened beneath the mask. “Those aren’t friends. That is very mean.” It was a shame this boy was from so far away…Allister would certainly teach these ‘friends’ a lesson or two if he could.   


The boy nodded. “Miss Acerola found me and let me out the next morning…and I’m not friends with them anymore. But now Ghost types make me panic, even when I moved to Galar after...um, after I had to. I couldn’t even see them when I was trapped, but they kept moving the conveyor belts and rattling the carts and making the dolls float. And t-then, then they’d budge into me and start pulling on my clothes and hair, and...” He subconsciously tugged his clothes tighter around himself.   


“They wanted to play with you,” Allister told him, but frowned. “But…I-I know you can’t talk to ghosts, so you wouldn’t know, huh. Sorry you had to go through that. S’awful…”   


Admittedly, an abandoned shopping mart full of ghosts and unopened snacks sounded like pure _heaven_ to Allister. But he was self-aware enough about his unusual taste in company to know it would seriously traumatize a ‘normal’ kid.   


Allister clasped his hands together and fidgeted. He didn’t have the confidence to offer any more physical comfort now that the boy was fully aware and lucid.   
  
“Well, you’re safe now. So…that’s good…”   
  
“I know…I know.” The boy took another breath and relaxed a little. “You’re really nice, Mister Allister.”  
  
“J-just call me Allister,” he told him. He may have been a few years older than this kid, but he was still a child himself.

“You’re like Miss Acerola. She made me hot cocoa and talked with me after letting me out. Ghost trainers are nice.” Koa smiled just a bit at the memory.   


Allister let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Koa was finally calm. Crisis averted, somehow.  
  
He slowly stood up. “Shall we head back? I know someone else real nice…not a Ghost trainer, but she might be able to help you more than me…”  
  
Koa nodded. He took out a pokeball to send Stufful back, although Cubone opted to stay out, climbing up to his shoulder.   
  


The two headed back to the stadium, but upon arrival in town, the crowds were still in deep discussion about the stadium events. Koa immediately hesitated.   
  
But Allister was prepared, nodding to a path away from the stadium.  
  
“Don’t worry…I know a shortcut no one ever takes.” It’s how he avoided his fans after matches. Not to be rude, but because he often didn’t have the nerve or stamina for their interactions.   


Inside the locker room, Bea was ready for them.   


“Hey, kids. Got the press out of our hair. Here.” Bea tossed Allister his water bottle. “Drink up.”   


“T-thanks,” Allister muttered, taking an obedient sip.   
  
She knelt down to Koa and held out another water bottle. “You, too. You’ve had quite an ordeal today.” She glanced at the Cubone on his shoulder.

“Is this a Cubone you caught in Alola?”

Koa nodded.

“Hm.” Bea inspected it closer. “This one’s way past his evolution date, you know. Is that—“ She paused, noticing something tucked in the Cubone’s free hand. “Ah. Everstone.”   


Koa looked away. “I don’t want him to evolve.”  
  
“Understandable. Alolan Marowak is strong, but won’t work for you so long as you’re afraid.”

“It’s a Ghost type…?” Allister wondered. Bea nodded.   
  
Cubone didn’t seem fond of the attention, either. Koa let it back into its ball.   


“Well, anyways. Want me to call your parents, kid?”  
  
Koa’s voice got really quiet. “Don’t have parents anymore. Not after the Beast Incident.”  
  
Allister frowned. Bea grit her teeth.   
  
“Right...relatives, then?”

“Grandma sleeps most of the day.”   


“Well…what do you want to do? Promise no press is gonna bother you so long as I’m around.”

Koa didn’t seem to have an answer. Allister tapped her shoulder, as he did when he wanted to speak with just her and no one else.   


She leaned in to hear him whisper: “Maybe suggest a nap.” Allister didn’t think you could be too old for one. And sleeping was his favorite thing to do after an anxiety-ridden day.   


“Yeah, good call. Hey kid, how about—“  
  
Her voice was interrupted as the screen in the locker room crackled to life.

It was a broadcast of the incidence. Of course it was. Allister’s stomach filled with dread. The news was already all over the events of the day.   


“Dammit.” Bea cursed under her breath as she started searching around for the remote. Allister could tell by the way her fists trembled that she was resisting punching the screen.   


The recording of Koa was front and center, and while the reporter did warn the following footage may be upsetting, they still played all of it in full—the nervous looks, the yelling crowd members, the scream, the breakdown. As it played, Koa covered his ears, leaned a bit into Allister’s side, and tried to make himself as small as possible. If Allister was near his locker, he would have lent the boy one of his spare masks to hide behind.   


Bea shut it off as soon as she found the misplaced remote. “No tact at all.” She shook her head. “Honestly, you’re just kids. Are you okay, Alli?”

Allister nodded. He hated that it happened, but now, it was over. Besides, it wasn’t him in the spotlight, nor was he the one Bea should be worried about.  
  
He silently gestured to Koa, who was staring numbly at the screen. “Everyone saw...everyone saw me...”

Bea rubbed the back of her head. “Kid, look…uh. These things happen. Once, I fell in the middle of throwing a Gigantamax ball, and they played it on repeat for weeks. And that was my own fault for being barefoot on grass after a rainstorm.”   


Bea scoffed, although there was some humor in it. Allister was glad. He had felt awful for her at the time, but seeing that she could speak freely about it now meant she was over it.   


“Sure it sucks in the moment, but they’ll forget about it, just like they forgot about my fall. It’s not a big deal.”   
  
Koa didn’t share their acceptance, or say anything. Instead, he turned and wrapped his arms around Allister’s waist.   


Allister jolted, then went stiff and glanced helplessly at Bea.   
  
"Hey, Koa.” Bea reached to touch his shoulder. “Allister’s not really one for hugs. I think you should--"   


They both froze when they heard him sniffle, and saw the telltale sheen of tears on his cheek. Allister's rigid stance softened instantly. He shook his head as Bea moved to pull him off again, and after a few moments of contemplation, very slowly and carefully put his arms around Koa in response.   
  
Bea was surprised, but didn’t address it further. Instead, she ruffled Koa’s hair. “Yeah…it’s not a big deal to me, but it is to you. I get that. I really do." She looked fondly at Allister as she spoke. She had deja vu from saying something like this before. "That's it, let it all out. Alli's got you."   


She moved her hand up to ruffle Allister’s hair, too. To say she was proud of her little brother was a vast understatement. She had no idea what he’d said or done to earn this kid’s trust, but the fact he’d been able to get close to another person, not Pokemon, was huge progress in his own healing.   


Koa sobbed into the ghost gym leader’s uniform. Allister stayed quiet and still. He looked up at the locker room ceiling, his empty purple gaze unfocused on anything in particular, but calm. Bea was right: normally he hated unwanted interaction, such as fans trying to pull off his mask or put their arms round him for pictures. But he also found out through Bea that gentle close contact was nice, if he felt comfortable enough with the person. Ghosts couldn’t give warm hugs the way people could, and if it was what Koa needed to feel better, he wouldn't move until the younger boy let go.    


By the time he finally did, it seemed the nap suggestion was warranted: the kid was still loosely holding onto him, but completely exhausted, hardly able to keep his bloodshot eyes open. He yawned loudly.   


Bea smiled. “He’s from Alola all right. Looks like you caught a Komala, Alli.” She put her hand on Koa’s shoulder. “C’mon kid, you can come take a nap at mine. I live right by Allister, so he can come with once he sorts himself out.”   


Koa let go and rubbed his eyes sleepily, following behind. He turned back to give Allister a little wave. “Thank you.” His voice was quiet, but the words were genuine.   
  
Once they were gone, Allister took off his mask and gave an impressively long sigh. Then, a tiny, faint smile.   


He didn’t even know what to call the day. Good? Bad? He both indirectly caused a problem, and sort of indirectly solved it.   


But Bea was happy, and Koa was happy, so he felt like he should be happy, too.   
  


“Proud of you, Alli.”

He had changed out of his uniform and mask the moment he heard Bea’s voice. Allister covered his cheeks with his hands on reflex, then slowly dropped them. He’d only very recently trusted Bea with his face, and not for long periods of time.  
  
“W-what for? D-didn’t do much…”  
  
“Are you kidding? You didn’t just _step_ out of your comfort zone today, you sprinted to Wyndon from it. You met this kid, what, a few hours ago? But you managed to find him, you got him back here without the staff getting involved, and you were there for him when he got emotional.”  
  
“Didn’t think staff would help,” Allister mumbled. “And…um, h-he’s, he’s probably cried a lot without parents or a big sis to cuddle him, s-so…”   


Bea’s sharp eyes were gentle. “Did he remind you of yourself a little?”   


“…Mm.”

They were different fundamentally, with Koa being foreign, bolder, and chattier—and also entirely alive, but that was beside the point. But they were both orphans, had some kind of past trauma, and could find solace in the older and kinder people in their lives.   


“Let’s go back. I’m sure he’d like to see you when he wakes up.”   
  
As Allister put on a new mask and they headed out, she leaned over to him, her voice brimming with pride: “I’ll always view you as my little brother…but you sure make a good big one, too.”   


—

“Marowak, another Max Phantasm!”   


The crowd roared with chanting as the giant ghosts faced off against one another. It was a completely sold out match, for a few reasons.  
  
First of all, people loved a good narrative, and this was the challenger’s ‘redemption match’ for the incident a few weeks prior. Not only that, but said challenger was actually using a Ghost type _himself_ this round. One most had never even seen before; watching the foreign, purple, flaming-bone wielding dinosaur blow up to Dynamax proportions drove the crowd absolutely wild.   


And he was winning. Marowak’s speed, Thick Club held item, and high level gave him an advantage against the gym leader’s Gengar.   


Which the audience watched go up in explosive flames with much delight. The challenger had won.   


“YES!” Koa pumped his fist in the air as his Marowak shrunk back down and twirled its club in a celebratory dance.   
  
The audience cheered. "Koa the Brave!" a young girl's voice shouted gleefully.   
  
"Yeah, go, Koa the Brave!" echoed another kid.   


He and Allister met at the center of the pitch again.   


“Crumbs...That was ace.” Allister had his mask on so his expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of fondness in his tone. “Here…a ghost badge…”

“Thanks, Allister,” Koa beamed, shaking his hand enthusiastically and taking the badge. “For a great match. And…for everything.”   


“N-no bother. Glad I could help.”   


Koa had stuck around for a while after the incident. His natural boldness was back in his determination to conquer his ghost fear, if only to stick it to his ex-friends. Allister helped him with that by letting him meet Ghost Pokemon outside of a battling context.   
They had started small. Allister introduced him to Polteageist first, Koa finding the tiny possessed teapot more fascinating than frightening. Then Cursola, with a backstory more sad than scary. They worked their way up to Gengar; Koa was nervous of it at first, but watching the way it played pranks on both its owner and Bea had made him giggle. By the end, he was able to spar with the Yamask outside the city without a problem, and even felt confident enough to evolve his Cubone into a Ghost type for good.   
  
Allister looked behind Koa at his partner Pokemon with signifiant interest. “That Marowak of yours…what a spectacular specter. I’m always mad for strong Ghost types.”  
  
Marowak tapped its head with its bone club and said something. Allister nodded to it.   


“Yes, we match. Your mask looks quite sturdy. Sort of wish mine was naturally part of my face, too.”   
  
Koa smiled, then blinked.   


“Wait, you can talk to my partner?” Then realized of course he could. He’d hadn’t introduced the newly evolved Marowak to Allister yet, wanting to save it as a surprise for their rematch.   


Not only could he talk, they seemed to start into a full conversation:   


“Maro!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wak. Maro, Maro.”

“Ah, really?”

“Wak!”  
  
“You don’t say!”   


Koa watched the exchange, entirely lost.   


Allister nodded sagely after a particularly long string of gibberish from Marowak. “Oh yes, I know exactly what you mean. It’s bloody hard, isn’t it? Well, I think you’re doing a great job. I sure couldn’t do what you do.” He tapped his chin. “Although, I do wonder sometimes what it’d be like inside a Friend Ball, or maybe a Luxury Ball…”   
  
He spoke with Koa’s Pokemon much easier than any human he’d spoken to. No stammering, no mumbling. Allister was certainly odd, but Koa had become quite fond of him. He may as well have grown to be his fan; at least, a very well-behaved one.   
  
“If you want to meet more foreign ghosts, you should talk to Miss Acerola. She’s super smart, and nuts about anything spooky!”   
  
Allister cleared his throat as he switched back to human interaction. Still, he sounded more at ease than usual. “A-ah. I’d like that.”   


“Oh, also…” It was Koa’s turn to hesitate. “Uh, if this whole gym challenge thing doesn’t work out for me…I was wondering, how do you pick gym trainers to help out in the gym mission? Cuz…if you need any new ones, I’d love to come train here. I know a lot about Ghost types now thanks to you, and I think Marowak would like it here, too.”

“O-oh!” Allister certainly did not expect that. Koa couldn’t read his expression past the mask, but his purple eyes were soft. “Y-yes. Of course. Good luck, but…if you come back, you’re welcome here.”

Koa added his gym badge to his collection, high-fived Marowak, then gave a wave and jogged off the pitch with a spring in his step. You’d never be able to tell he first entered it with such dread.   
  
"Koa the Brave, out!" Koa announced to the audience with a mid-jog fist pump, earning a mini wave of cheers from his tiny but enthusiastic new fanbase; sure to follow him in the matches to come, and all born out of this particular incident in Allister's gym.   


Allister glanced back towards the locker room. Bea stood at the side of it, arms folded and smiling. He looked forward to catching up with her later.   


But even more, he looked forward to taking time off that evening at the cemetery, with just himself, a pack of crisps, and his dearest ghost friends. He felt he really earned it after his highly social past few weeks.   


It wasn’t the rush of thrill he got when battling against Gloria. It was more peaceful than that. A content, warm feeling deep within his chest, as he watched the winning boy and his ghostly partner leave the stadium to the crowd's cheers.   


There were other ways to feel alive than just fighting strong trainers. Allister hoped, in his young and ongoing gym leader career, he would get to experience many more.


End file.
